Waterford Crystal
by The Atomic Cafe
Summary: Four friends, Mac, Stella, Flack, and Claire, welcome the new milennium.


**Waterford Crystal**

**By Dimgwrthien**

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI: NY or affiliates.

Manhattan, the city that never could be quiet for more than a second, rang with shouts and cheers. The night had fallen hours ago, and the lights were strangely dimmed. The only thing that could beat out the full moon's shine was the Waterford Crystal sitting at the peak of One Time Square. A crowd settled below it, some staring up at the clock, some talking, and more than a fair share drinking to celebrate.

That included Mac and Claire Taylor with their two guests. They all stood out on the balcony of the apartment, trying to peer between the buildings to see the celebration.

"Ninety-three years of ball-dropping," Don Flack slurred, working on one-too-many beers, "and twenty-something years of me staring at it, yet I've never stood anywhere near that thing."

"You don't stand _near_ it," Claire corrected. Her own beer tipped dangerously in her hand as she waved it over the edge of the balcony that she was perched on. "You stand _miles away_ from it. It's impossible to get anywhere near there!"

"That's the truth." Don took another sip, leaning on the balcony, glaring at the buildings. "Damnit, Mac. You have - you have horrible tastes in apartments. Can't even see the goddamn thing from here."

"You can if you stand here!" Stella told him, placing one foot on the edge of the balcony and grabbing onto Mac's shoulder so that she could raise herself a few feet up. "Right here! No better view in the world!"

Mac looked up at the bottom of Stella's chin. "Get down," he snapped. He was the only one who seemed to take care not to slur his words and to stress them all instead. "You're going to fall off."

Claire laughed at his side, then mimed falling off from her seat. Don joined in her laughing. "Falling, Mac!" Claire shouted, still laughing slightly. She leaned backwards, sliding an inch so that it looked as though she would fall. Mac grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"Good job, Mac," Don tells him, smiling and clapping him on the shoulder. "'Cause, you know, if one of them fell, there would be no ambulance because" - he waves his beer toward the crowd - "they're all over there. Why aren't we over there?"

"I wasn't going to stand out there all day," Claire answers before Mac could open his mouth. She glanced at the bottle in her hand and placed it on the ground. "Stella, can you get me another beer?"

Stella bends down and hands one over. Claire pulls at the top for a minute before Don hands her the bottle opener.

"Who's made their New Year's resolution?" Stella asked, looking around. No one answered. "Well, I'm gonna make one." She glanced down onto the street below, brow furrowed.

"I'm getting the police station to get new cop cars," Don cut in. "The ones we have are junky pieces of shit. Too many miles on 'em."

"Why not resolve to stop catching criminals?" Claire asked, laughing.

"That's mine!" Mac joked. "My resolution is to quit my job and move to Hawaii and have a permanent vacation." He leaned over and pecked Claire on the cheek. She laughed harder.

"That's sick!" Don told him, shielding his eyes with one hand. "Get a room! No kissing!"

"Well, you'll be kissing _everyone_ in…" Claire looked at her watch for a minute. "In thirteen minutes."

"Happy New Year," Don muttered, taking another swig. "I _hate_ kissing people."

"Oh, Mr. Flack's never said that before!" Stella hit his shoulder playfully. "What about all of those girls you're always with?"

"The ones from work or the ones I store in my closet?" Don smiled at her. "Aw, Stella, you can have a kiss now if you want."

He leaned in to kiss her, but Stella put a hand on his cheek and pushed him away. "You smell like beer!" she complained, and all of them laughed, too tipsy to control themselves. "No Flack kissing now. He has to wait like the rest of us."

"Oh, you're making a line?" Don ran a hand through his hair. "Better tidy up, then. Mac, can I use your toothbrush?"

"I wouldn't! I already use it to clean the toilet," Claire joked. Mac made a face.

"Ooh, I think you missed out on a kiss yourself, Claire." Stella sat up on the edge of the balcony next to Claire. "Poor you. You'll be lonely now."

"I'll count on you, then." Claire put an arm around Stella, switching her beer to her free hand. "Now, who has cigarettes?"

"You don't smoke," Mac told her as Don said, "I think I do." Mac glared at Don. "Hey, not mine," Don countered, digging through his pockets. He finally pulled out a carton with one or two left. "Hell - not my jacket, even. Roy stole my jacket, so I took his. He smokes." Don looked through another pocket. "Now, does he have a lighter?"

When he found one, he tossed it to Claire and handed her a cigarette. She lit the lighter and let it burn a minute without putting the cigarette near it.

"Hey, you're wasting a perfectly good one," Don told her, taking the cigarette from her hand. Once she replaced the top to the lighter, he took that, too. "Might as well be drunk _and_ stoned. I hate New Year's."

"Don't be sour." Claire grabbed the cigarette from between his lips. Don raised his eyebrows at her. "Sharing is caring. Hand 'em over."

Don lit the cigarette once it was in her mouth. Claire took a tiny breath and coughed. Don grabbed the cigarette back. Once he noticed Mac's glare, he explained, "Hey. It's bad, right? My cigarette."

Mac tried to grab at it, but Don slapped his hands away. "Don't tell me it's bad. I'm drunk, I'm disorderly, and I'm not in prison. I can break one more of your rules."

Stella leaned forward and grabbed the cigarette. "Sharing _is_ caring, Don." She placed it between her lips but did not inhale. "Look at me, I'm Don Flack," she giggled. "I _hate_ New Year's, I _hate_ cop cars, and I _hate_ Mac's dumbass rules." She handed the cigarette back to Don, who glared.

"My rules are _not_ dumbass!" Mac took the carton from Don and placed them on the table. "I'm just not finding you getting my coworker and wife stones."

Don smiled and held the cigarette out to Mac. "I'm sorry, Mac. I forgot to offer it to you."

Mac glared.

"Fine, fine. My new resolution is to stop stealing Roy's jacket. God rest my resolution of the new car, because I preferred it." He took the carton of cigarettes and threw them over the balcony as well as the one from his mouth. "That should help Roy, too, in case he wanted to stop smoking."

Claire looked at her watch. "Seven minutes!"

Stella stepped up on one of the chairs again, trying to peer between the buildings to see the Waterford Crystal. "They're still yelling," she reported.

"Of course they are." Don craned his neck to see. "That's my third resolution - next year, I'm gonna see that thing up close."

"It's big enough on TV. I don't see why people feel the need to go down two streets to see it any closer."

Stella gave Mac a baleful look. "Think about the people who've never been to New York. How do you think they feel about that?"

"Well, they should come over here and see the mob scenes and fire works and realize how lucky police officers are if they don't have duty on New Year's." He waited until Stella got off the chair and climbed up himself. "They _are_ still there!"

"Yeah, everyone's gonna leave before the ball drops." Claire snorted. "Didn't you know? You hang out all day and bail right before."

"How much longer?"

Claire tilted her watch to get enough o a reflection to see it. "Four minutes."

"Pass me another beer, Stella," Mac sighed, getting off of the chair. She grabbed one off of the table and popped off the lid for him. Mac downed at least a fourth of it at one go. "Happy millennium, I guess."

Don raised his bottle. "To a new millennium, then! May it be happier, longer, and… filled with more women." He clinked bottle with Mac, but Stella refused. Claire didn't seem to notice him.

"No kisses for you yet, Don." She waited until he nodded before hitting her glass against his.

They drank silently. Mac paused, holding out his bottle again. "To keeping our resolutions - getting to see that damn ball up close, getting new police cars" - he glanced at Don - "and to get Don to stop stealing Roy's jacket, because that man gets angry easily."

"Hey, I'm not seeing _you_ make any resolutions," Don snapped.

Mac thought for a second. "Okay. I'm keeping with my quitting my job and moving to Hawaii with all of you. Except for Don, because he'll end up bringing Roy with him."

"Could I come if I stopped stealing Roy's jacket?" Don asked.

Mac laughed. "Yeah, I'll be in hell then. Drink up." He took a long swig, as did the two girls, but Don looked offended.

"I _will_ stop taking his jacket. It was only once. Or ten times. Something like that." He watched them for a minute. "Damnit. I'm thirsty, but don't think I'm drinking to your toast." He took a drink.

"Sixty!" came the shouts from the other street. "Fifty-nine!"

"Alright," Don announced. Here's our chance to break a record for most beers downed in sixty seconds!" He finished off his and grabbed for another one.

"Jesus," Stella said, putting down a half-finished bottle. "Don, you're a machine. I can't go any further."

Don raised his eyebrows while chugging it.

Claire stared in awe. "You can chug a beer?"

Don's lips turned a little as he continued.

Claire turned to Mac. "Sorry, honey. I'm divorcing you for a man who can chug a beer."

Mac grabbed one of the last bottles and popped off the top, starting to drink. He and Don held each other's gaze for a while until Don finished his off and sighed. Mac continued for a few more seconds, eyes shut, then placed down his empty bottle.

"Just in time," Don said weakly, his words slurred almost too close to understand. "Ten…"

The rest joined in, glancing over at the falling ball. Claire and Stella stood on the chairs, trying to look. Mac gave in and finally took a step up, but Don remained leaned against the balcony.

"Five… four… three… two… ONE!"

"Happy New Year!" Claire shouted, throwing herself on Mac, her legs folded tight around his waist.

"You're gonna make me sick," he told her. "Happy New Year, honey."

Claire kissed him enthusiastically, then put herself on the ground. "Don, get your ass over here."

Don glanced up at her. "Not yet. Stella made me a deal."

Stella leaned forward and kissed Don on the lips, very quickly. She pulled away and made a face. Claire jumped forward, taking a second kiss before Don could even notice. "Stella…"

Stella pecked Claire just as quickly, then turned to Mac. Mac smiled at her and kissed her.

Claire and Stella seemed to be looking at Mac and Don expectantly.

"No thanks," Don said. "I think I'd rather puke up my guts. Which I think I'm about to do. Excuse me." He jogged inside in the direction of the bathroom. Mac watched him leave, then looked at the collection of bottles.

"Guess that many is _too many_." Mac picked up a bag and started to put the bottles in it. Stella grabbed another off of the table - this time a champagne bottle.

"Weren't we going to open this?" She popped the cork out, letting it foam all over her hands. "Who wants some?"

"I'm gonna join Don," Claire said, rushing off of the balcony.

Stella turned to Mac. "You?"

He smiled. "Stella, no person in the world can drink that much."

She shrugged and flicked the bottle so that some of it landed on Mac's shirt. "Hey!" He grabbed the bottle, flicking it back, drenching them both.

Don returned right as Stella tried to grab the bottle from Mac, spilling some of it on him.

"Oh, is this a hint that I'm not drunk enough?" he asked. "Or is it saying I'm too drunk when you two are playing Fuzzy Navels?"

Stella laughed and poured some more on him and Mac. Claire walked in a moment later, getting a blow to the chest.

"Fuzzy Navels?" she asked, glancing at the three of them. "'Cause if you're playing, I need to sign a permission slip for Mac."

Stella laughed harder, letting the last spray from the bottle get them all in the faces. Even after, when the only sound was their dying laughter and the sound of the champagne fizzling out, the crowds in the streets below kept cheering, letting a new millennium into their lives.


End file.
